


Pumpkins 'n Patches

by RandyWrites



Series: Canon Noncompliance [5]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 20:03:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17494418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandyWrites/pseuds/RandyWrites
Summary: one-shot collection from tumblr





	1. Chapter 1

Despite what most of Gotham assumed about her, Pamela Isley did not, in fact, hate pumpkin carving.

The waste that occurred when parents threw out the seeds and gunk that had so many wonderful uses? Now that she absolutely abhorred. But the ritual itself was something she did not mind. It made children happy.

It made Harley happy.

She wasn’t  _completely_  heartless, after all.

So when her girlfriend had them bundle up against the autumn chill and make their way just outside of the city limits to find a seasonal pumpkin patch? She’d made extra sure to snag a hat and scarf to further hide her identity, asked Selina to check in on their place if they didn’t make it back by 2, and reminded Harley to pack those awful gummy snacks that were more sugar than fruit for when they inevitably got hungry during the drive.

Gotham traffic on Saturdays never failed to make them  _both_  a little more angry than usual. And she’d be damned if they didn’t have something with them during that drive.

It hadn’t taken long, when they arrived at the patch, for Harley to zone in on a few hidden gems between most of the mundane gourds.

“How ‘bout this one, Red? ’s got a funny little knot on the side that kinda looks like Pengy’s monocle… And the stem’s the beak!” She laughed as she held the pumpkin in front of her face and did her best impression of their fellow rogue, bouncing the fruit in time with the inflection of her words. “ _How’s about we see ta havin’ a smashin’ soiree at the Iceberg, luv_?”

Ivy was smiling in spite of herself, and gently took the pumpkin from Harley’s hands to inspect it.

“Not a bad find, Harls,” she admitted, “We could paint this one like Penguin, then. But we still need to find some suitable for carving, too.”

“How ‘bout this one?” The blonde hefted one that seemed to overflow in her arms, almost comically big in it’s proportions. “It’s the  _Great Pumpkin_ , Red!”

“That one might be too great.” She was quick to help her girlfriend lower it carefully back onto the ground as her grip began slipping and she teetered dangerously to one side. “Let’s focus on a few we can keep  _safe_  in the backseat, hmm?”

“ _Pumpkin Party Pooper_ ,” Harley lightly accused as she stuck her tongue out at the redhead. Ivy only rolled her eyes as she picked up another pumpkin for inspection.

…

“No, no, Red, you’ve got it wrong. Everyone knows it’s  _triangles_  for  _eyes_ ,  _squares_  for  _teeth_. We’re trying NOT to scare the kids this year!”

“I thought the whole point of Halloween was to be  _scary_.”

“There’s a fine line between  _scary_ and _spooky_ , Red. And we ain’t crossing it this year!”

“Oh, but next year-?”

“-Next year’s fair game. Assuming we aren’t spending it in Arkham again.”

“ _Touché_.”

They continued on like that for some time, chatting idly as Harley shared the history of Jack-o’-lanterns and pumpkin carving. The botanist separated the seeds from the pumpkin guts, saving both for various uses later as Harley drew up whimsical designs for them to use on their respective pumpkins.

Three hours, one knife, and thousands of pumpkin seeds later, they finally had their pumpkins carved. And while they weren’t anything to write to Arkham about, they certainly helped to make their apartment’s doorway feel a little bit more like home.

And just in time for Halloween, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part of xmas prompts (mistletoe growing in this case)

“It’s a parasite, you know,” the clown said matter-of-factly as she hugged the botanist from behind. She gently kissed Ivy’s neck as she wrapped her sweater-clad arms around said botanist’s waist, careful to avoid the dips she knew to be more ticklish along her skin. “But like most things, folks thought it looked real pretty. And it became tradition an’ good luck an’ all that to hang ‘em above a doorway.”

“Even parasites have purpose in Mother Nature’s grand design, darling,” Ivy hummed as she leaned her head thoughtfully to one side, as if in thought. As it just so happened to expose more skin that Harley gladly began peppering with more kisses. “Just look at you,” she teased.

“Oh ho ho! Look’s like Santa gave  _someone_  a sense of humor for Christmas!” She nuzzled the ticklish crook of Ivy’s neck, before pressing her lips firmly on the villainess’ rosy cheek and blowing a raspberry onto the soft skin. Ivy let out a shrill yell in protest as she slapped at the clown’s arms that were now holding her hostage.

“Harley! Stop!”

“Not ‘till ya take it back, Red!”

She held tighter to her girlfriend as she attacked with another round of raspberries along her neck, only stopping as Ivy surrendered with many cries of ’ _Uncle_!’.

As they settled down against one of the trees still in bloom in Ivy’s greenhouse, Harley took a second look at her girlfriend’s 'crop’ of mistletoe growing above them.

“Y'know,” she began again, “Tradition was that couples would kiss an’ take one'a those berry bits off for good luck. Every time there was a gatherin’ underneath. I think the number of 'em that were left was supposed to have some kinda meaning too.”

“ _Uh-huh_. And just  _where_  did you hear about all of these traditions, my darling?”

Harley quirked her head to the side, tapping her chin thoughtfully as she mused aloud. “Second year or… maybe third. Fall semester… but before finals…”

“Hmm, from fellow students or some misinformed professor, then?” Ivy prompted after a moment.

“Ah,  _to hell with it_ ,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “All that matters is that we’re gonna paint the town red- er,  _white_ \- with this stuff, right?”

“Right… Right after we enjoy it for ourselves a little while longer, hmm?” The botanist brushed the clown’s bangs from her eyes as she leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Harls.”


	3. Palm Reader

Screams of terror and delight rang above them as the coaster made another round on the track, and the rogues smiled at the artificial chaos that surrounded them. Ivy hadn’t been fully convinced when her girlfriend suggested a last minute excursion this morning, but as soon as she saw that familiar, maniacal gleam in Harley’s sky blue eyes, she knew the clown wouldn’t be swayed.

“I’m starting to think that you love my  _indulging_  your inner child more than you actually love  _me_ , Harls,” the botanist purred as she snuck a kiss onto her girlfriend’s cheek.

As the breeze twisted up her polka-dotted sundress, Ivy ran a frustrated hand down to smooth it back out. She frowned at the twinkle in Harley’s eyes, as she mouthed out a ’ _Tried to warn ya_ ’ before grabbing more securely to her own baseball cap, the wind nearly knocking it off her head. The rogue’s eyes glanced down again to look over the clown’s choice of short-legged overalls, definitely not minding all of the exposed leg that she was showing off with it. She was broken out of her reverie at the sound of her girlfriend’s voice.

“Y'know,  _Freud_  said that love was a good psychosis,” Harley said, tilting her head playfully for a moment as her smile spread wider. Then it dropped, suddenly, as a thought took front and center of her attention. “But I don’t know… I think I’ve had too many doses.”

“Remind me, love,” Ivy asked as she let their fingers intertwine, “Isn’t he the creep that was a little  _sex obsessed_?”

“A  _little_?” Harley snorted as she took a firmer grip onto Ivy’s hand, the smile back on her face again as she lead the botanist right to the back of the coaster’s line. “I think it was a  _little_  more than a  _little_ , Red.”

“You know how I feel about  _rollercoasters_ -”

“ _Please_ , Red? Just  _one_  ride! An’ then I’ll win you a goldfish from one'a the booths! Or we can have our fortunes read?!”

“ _Motion sickness_ and _scam artists_?” Ivy snorted, tearing her hand away from Harley’s, “No thanks.”

“C'mon, Red! Don’t make me bring out the-”

“You wouldn’t  _dare_ ,” she balked, stopping just short of exiting the line completely, one foot across the threshold. She’d only need to take another couple of steps, enough for Harley to know she was serious. But that may mean subjecting herself later to puppy dog eyes and crocodile tears. Neither of these options were in her favor.

But one would be quicker and easier to deal with than the other.

She sighed, resigned to her fate. “It better be a  _damn good_  palm reader when we’re finished with this,” she threatened, growling it out lowly as Harley hummed with glee at her side.

“I’ll find ya the  _best_  fortune teller on the  _whole East Coast_ , babe,” she held out her pinky finger for Ivy to take, “That’s a pinky promise!” And, almost inconceivably, Ivy did take it, pulling her closer. 

They sealed the promise with a short, sweet kiss.


End file.
